


If I Told You I Loved You, Would You Believe Me? Would You Love Me, Too?

by ashensunsets



Category: Captain Marvel (2019), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Allegory, Angst, Artificial Emotions, Cupids, Drabble, F/F, Is there a word for that?, Love Potion/Spell, Nick Ships It, Pining, Pining Carol, Pining Maria, RamVers, Ships It Like Fedex, Skywives, cupiddrug kinda stands in for putting your SO on a pedestal and how it affects all parties involved, nick's not having any of your shit carol, spacewives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-24
Updated: 2019-05-14
Packaged: 2020-01-31 08:29:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18587542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashensunsets/pseuds/ashensunsets
Summary: Carol gets injected with a drug that exacerbates her feelings for Maria.. . .“It’s not like I’m in love with her or anything. Shit!” Carol snatches her hand back, glaring as the searing tray goes clattering to the floor and spilling biscuits at her feet. She rushes to the sink, twists the faucets, and runs her hands under the gushing water, groaning as her skin begins to turn pink. She shakes her head, kicks the biscuits away, and grabs a towel off the back of a chair as she starts towards the table. “We already knew the bug was underdeveloped”, she murmurs, drying her hands. “This just further proves that.”Nick looks up from where Goose is comfortably snuggled up in his lap. “Mm hm.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is something. Finals are amassing to destroy me, Endgame is gearing up to finish me off, and I'm not at all ready for any of it, so I kinda wrote this to cope with the trashfire that is currently my brain. I haven't edited it, I haven't finished it, and I've barely even thought about it aside from the initial brainfart that produced it. I'm probably never going to finish this, and I'll probably look back on it one day and wonder what the hell I was thinking when I posted this, but ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ 
> 
> ugh, my poor little spacewives; they deserve better.

When she comes to, the first thing she’s aware of is the breath in her face; warm and sweet, like sweetbread fresh out of the oven. The thought has Carol frowning, blinking blearily as the thought of Maria in her dingy apron that reads “Honey Got a Ass a Sweet As Sugar”. Her frown bleeds into a smile, and the ringing in her ears comes to a halt at the same time the sound of someone screaming fades in.  
Carol tilts her head up, catching the glare of the sun headon. Sluggishly, she lifts a hand to shield her eyes, only to suddenly find her eyes focusing in on Maria’s slumped form over her. Her eyes zero in on Maria’s, big and brown and flooded with tears, none of the affection and warmth that usually resides there. Something in Carol’s chest lurches, and her smile grows bigger, wider; she smiles, like she always wants to when she sees Maria, but this time it’s different. This time, it’s like she can’t control herself, like showing her happiness at seeing her is about as important to her as breathing.  
“Oh, God. Carol!”, Maria says shakily before pulling her into a hug. She’s trembling, sobbing like she hates, and that wipes Carol’s smile away. “Are you okay?” Maria pulls away, tucking a stray curl back into her hat, then frowns, squinting as she leans in closer. The longer she stares, the more ragged Carol’s breath becomes, the more she can’t help licking her lips because, wow, they are really close.  
“What the fuck is going on with your eyes”, Maria murmurs just as the sound of sirens start to approach.  
Carol just blinks. “I think I got bit.” As she’s speaking, the world’s begun to tilt, teetering and tottering until the blackness undulating at the edges of her vision begin to spread and overwhelm her. Maria’s eyes go wide, and she starts shouting, shouting something, but Carol’s falling again, all the while yearning to just lift a hand and brush a finger over Maria’s cheek.  
. . .  
The next time she awakes, she’s in a hospital room, with the curtains drawn and the door shut. Maria’s passed out in the chair on her left, a stream of drool dripping from her lips, and Nick’s in the one on the right, staring out the window as he rubs his knuckles. He must sense that Carol’s woken up because he turns to look at her. But Carol has eyes only for Maria, the air having left her chest at the sight of her slumbering friend.  
“Carol”, Nick murmurs, crouching beside her. She turns to look at him, and something in his eyes changes, from vague caution to overt sympathy. Something about the look drags Carol’s attention to him, forcing Maria, with a rather shocking effort, to the back of her mind.  
“Nick”, she gasps, sitting up abruptly in her bed. She shakes her head, taking a deep blink at the soupy feel of her brain. “Whoa.”  
“Easy, there.” He extends an arm to steady her, then reaches onto her bedside table to hand her a juicebox. “You took a hell of a hit back there.”  
She narrows her eyes and groans. “What happened?”  
Nick’s silent for a moment. He exchanges a quick glance towards Maria, then back to her. “You remember the assignment?”  
“...Yeah. Something about a… a love drug.” As she says it, she turns her nose up, repulsed, just as she probably initially was. Because really? Of all the shit that passes S.H.I.E.L.D.’s radar, that was the case they had to get saddled with. Her head feeling just a bit clearer, Carol then looks back to Nick and raises her eyebrows. “What does that have to do with me-”  
“Damn. I was just starting to think you’d never wake up.”  
At Maria’s voice, Carol’s ears burn hot, and her breath goes strangled in her chest. Her head lolls to the side as her gaze drifts behind Nick, to where Maria’s sitting up in her chair. Carol gives her a trembly smile, feeling, for all her worth, like an insignificant bug staring up into the sun. “Maria”, she breathes, all at once overcome with the urge to spring out of bed and into her arms.  
And it’s such a powerful, primal feeling that the fact of it has Carol snapping out of her delirium and pressing her back into her pillow. Her eyes dart back to Nick, who’s resting at the foot of her bed and watching her like he knows something he shouldn’t. She takes a moment to backtrack, to retrace the steps of their conversation, and just about goes pale when she pieces it all together.  
“Nick, go get a nurse”, Maria murmurs, rising from her seat to press a palm to Carol’s forehead. “It’s okay, babe. They’re gonna fix you right on up.”  
Carol shudders. Her skin’s gone clammy, and the feel of Maria’s hand, cool and smooth and ever-so-comforting, has her leaning into it. She can feel Nick’s eyes on her, knows that this, whatever the hell this is, will warrant a conversation later. But for now, she just sits there, basking in the calming presence of Maria and struggling with the knowledge that everything now hangs in the balance.  
. . .  
“It’s not like I’m in love with her on anything. Shit!” Carol snatches her hand back, glaring as the searing tray goes clattering to the floor and spilling biscuits at her feet. She rushes to the sink, twists the faucets, and runs her hands under the gushing water, groaning as her skin begins to turn pink. She shakes her head, kicks the biscuits away, and grabs a towel off the back of a chair as she starts towards the table. “We already knew the bug was underdeveloped”, she murmurs, drying her hands. “This just further proves that.”  
Nick looks up from where Goose is comfortably snuggled up in his lap. “Mm hm.”  
“I’m serious.” She tucks her feet underneath her and huffs. “I mean, okay, I like her. But I’m not in love with her.”  
Goose mewls and rolls over onto her back. Nick scratches her belly, then leans back in his seat, nodding along. “I didn’t say you were.”  
Carol narrows her eyes. “But you’re thinking it, aren’t you?”  
Nick just smirks. “I’m not thinking anything.” Carol frowns, and Nick laughs, a great, deep “HA!” before he props his free arm up on the table, gives her a knowing look, and says, “Unless, of course, there is something I should be thinking”.  
“Suck my ass, Fury.”  
“Don’t get pissy with me. It’s not my fault you can’t admit you love her.”  
Carol pouts and sloops in her chair. “How long is this supposed to last?” Just talking about Maria has her heart beating like a rabbit’s and her head swimming like she’s gone a few hours on the TeaCups.  
Nick shrugs. “Of the survivors we found, they all said the drug’s effects wore off in a matter of weeks. But given your whole…” He makes a vague gesture. “Whatever, it could be just a couple of days.” Carol closes her eyes, sucking in a breath at the thought of just how many ways this could all go wrong. When Nick goes to speak again, his voice is softer, lighter; it’s exactly what she needs right now.  
“It’s like you said. We already know the bug’s screwed up. If anything happens, you can always just blame it on that.”  
Carol groans and drops her head onto the table.  
Maria walks into the kitchen, smiling until she catches sight of something behind them. “Why are there biscuits on the floor?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I know I said I was gonna leave this alone, but I was thinking about cupids again, then started thinking of my skywives, and this happened.   
> Honestly, it turned out way sadder (and way deeper) than I intended, but that's pretty much a given with anything I write.  
> Anyway, again, no guarantees that I'll be picking this up again. Don't wanna swear off it entirely given that I'm updating now but I also don't wanna get your hopes up. If anyone wants to adopt this, just let me know.

It only takes three fluid swipes for Maria to scrunch up her nose, narrow her eyes, and forever swear off procrastinating their spring cleaning. Her hand’s covered in dusts bunnies, hair balls, and God knows what else. By the time she’s crawled back out from underneath the bed, she can barely keep her eyes open, and her sinuses are just aching to let loose a gross sneeze. She rolls over onto her knees, wipes an arm underneath her nose, and nearly startles as she sees Carol standing in the doorway. 

Carol. Who’s irises are just a little too pink for comfort. 

“Carol”, Maria squeaks, her voice an octave higher than normal. She clears her throat, then, rising to her feet, turns her back to her and makes her way to the drawers beside her bed. “You’re supposed to be sleeping.”   
“Couldn’t”, Carol returns, almost nonchalant if not for the slight lilt to her voice. “Kept having...weird dreams.”

The back of Maria’s neck burns hot. And as she adjusts her body, she catches sight of Carol, inching along, as if uncertain of herself. The thought, while endearing, makes something cold and solid form in the pit of her stomach. This isn’t Carol. Whenever she’s pictured this happening, whenever she’s pictured  _ them _ happening, it’s always been when they were healthy and clear-headed; not with one riding on three hours of sleep and half a doughnut and the other doped up on some cupiddrug.

_ This isn’t you _ , Maria thinks as Carol, shy-smiled and dim-eyed, saddles up beside the drawers. Carol sets a hand over hers, stalling Maria’s frantic searching, and gently closes the drawers. Then she leans against her and, batting her lashes, like some tender-footed middle-schooler, stares up at her like she’s caught a personal glimpse of heaven.

“You’re avoiding me”, Carol says; the statement, though cloaked in an eternal blanket of singsong and bliss, is almost devoid of emotion, like she’s read it off the page of a book, rather than having plucked it from the deepest reaches of her brain. If this were really Carol, she’d be avoiding the subject, giving Maria the time she needs to confront and dissect whatever issue they’re having before eventually approaching her. Or, at the very least, she’d meet her tit for tat, sticking to her side of the house until Monica or Nick devises some scheme to get them back talking. Something, anything, that shows she still has some semblance of identity, of anything beyond what this husk of a person the drug’s turned her into. 

Maria clenches her fists and grits her teeth. Carol, the zombie, doesn’t see this because she’s too busy staring at her like she’s found her literal map to the stars. And while that sounds romantic and all, there’s something about it that just makes her feel disquieted. Because even excluding the fact that this thing isn’t the woman she’s spent the past decade befriending and later falling in love with, there’s also the fact that Maria could never measure up to what this Carol wants. Not when everything this Carol wants was manufactured in a laboratory and designed to appeal to the masses.

“I was looking for something”, Maria eventually mumbles. She snatches her hand from underneath Carol’s, ignoring the artificial hurt that mimics her own, then stalks out of the room. As she’s walking down the hall, she spots Nick putting Monica to sleep and feels, for the first time in days, grateful because there’s no way she could have managed the both of them on her own. 

“Looking for what?”

Maria’s eye twitches. She descends the stairs, then walks into the kitchen and sets about washing the dishes that are already in the dishrack. 

Carol doesn’t notice. 

“Nick knows a guy that might be able to fix-cure-you. This guy, he says he’ll need something you’ve been in close contact with.”   
“Wouldn’t that be me”, Carol says and gives her a wry smile; it makes Maria’s breath catch in her chest because it’s so much like the one she used to give her. And yet there’s something so clearly lacking, something so clearly  _ notCarol  _ that it hurts more to see than it does to not. Maria looks up from her lips and into Carol’s eyes, only to deflate ever so slightly at the unmistakable, unforgettable pink of her eyes.

“No”, she says coldly, turning the water to scorching hot. “That’s what he thought, but Nick and I, we sat down and figured...with how I’ve been avoiding you, it wouldn’t be me. It’d be something personal, something you always go to, sober or not.”

Carol smiles. She leans onto the counter, props her chin up by her hands, and tilts her head to the side. “You’re so smart.”   
Maria squeezes her sponge until streaks of dirty water and suds are streaming down her forearm. “Nick helped me come up with it.” Her shoulders slump, and she casts Carol a sad glance. “But thank you.”

A pinkish tint emits from Carol’s cheeks. “And so funny.”

Maria bites her lower lip. Out of the corner of her eye, she can see Nick creeping into the room, watching the two with an undisclosed sadness. “Thank you”, she chokes out.

Carol ducks her head and smiles to the counter. “And-and really pretty.”

“Thank you.”   
Carol sighs, almost heavenly, and it’s then that Nick steps into the kitchen. 

“Hey, Wonder Woman. Monnie’s asking for you. She wants to ask you something.”   
Carol’s brows furrow. Within her eyes, something wages, something strong and intense. Her hands bawl into fists, and a deep confusion overwhelms her features as the pink of her eyes flickers back and forward between the dark brown Maria’s grown to miss. In the end, the pink remains but not without flecks of brown appearing within its mist. “Okay”, she says almost mechanically. She brushes a hand over both their shoulders as she passes them, then starts up the stairs.

Nick appears beside Maria, pulling her into a rare, but always welcome, hug.

“It’s okay”, Nick whispers into her ear.

Maria takes in a shuddering breath, then closes her eyes, returning the hug with more strength than she’s felt in days. “I’ve wanted this”, she admits, a deep tremble afflicting her voice. “For the longest time, I’ve wanted this.” She doesn’t finish it. But by the tightening of Nick’s arms around her, it’s clear that she doesn’t have to.

“I know.” 

Tears spring to Maria’s eyes. She presses her face into his chest and bites down a sob. “I miss her.”

“I do, too.”

And then, for the first time since 1995, Maria cries. 


End file.
